


Should've Told You Long Ago

by starsheartsandiron



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Guilt, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Rating May Change, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-23 12:07:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14933978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsheartsandiron/pseuds/starsheartsandiron
Summary: Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (SPOILERS)The world had been devastated after the snap. The Avengers lost many, and there was nothing they could do as the world recovered. The remaining Avengers returned to the compound to recuperate, reunite after the two years the team was broken apart.They had seen the others disappear - knew that they were in fact gone - but no one had seen Tony in his final moments.---Steve stumbles upon things he probably shouldn't have found, something Tony had made for him after the events of Civil War. Confessions that would never be shared in person.





	1. Chapter 1

They’d made it back to the Avengers Compound, the closest thing to home they could find despite the fact that the team had been devastated. Few talked about how many had gone missing after the snap. They needed to recover, to grieve before someone made a poor decision. They had no place to start, everyone just _disappeared._ There was no immediate lead on Thanos, as unsettling as the current situation was the remaining Avengers collectively agreed that rest was necessary for their own well-being. Rest is what they’d call it, but each remaining member knew that the truth was they needed time to grieve.

   


* * *

   


   


A week had passed after the snap and most of the remaining team had settled to a some-what comforting domestic routine.  They knew there was not a whole lot they could do for the world. The entire Earth was in mourning and the remaining emergency personnel could do far better than the Avengers could in a time like this. So that’s how they let the world cope - in collective mourning - and resigned themselves to creating a home out of the Compound once again. Cap’s team was reunited with the remaining Avengers. Two years was a long time to be a broken family. Bruce and Thor were notably closer and Nat was especially grateful to see Bruce back on Earth (in one peace) with her. Regardless of their domestic bliss the air remained thick with the question Bruce had asked back in Wakanda.

“Where is Tony?”

None of them had seen him since the initial ship had arrived in New York, and certainly not since the snap.

Another week had passed with no word and they were sure that he had disappeared the same as the others. The team had to accept that Tony, their hotheaded genius was gone for good this time.

   


* * *

   


   


On the third week Cap mustered up the courage to explore the compound. Opening doors to rooms he hadn’t been in in what seemed like forever. Taking in the comforting familiarity of the Compound. He had not talked to Jarvis (F.R.I.D.A.Y now actually, as he’d been reminded by house’s AI) since returning to the house, forgoing the reminder of a missing Tony and allowing the others to take control of the AI if needed. (Though it was frequently for trivial matters and the occasional scan of the world news). The AI was watching Steve traverse the house. His bare feet padding across the hard floors as he made his way systematically through the large building, coming to a stop outside the glass door that lead to Tony’s expansive lab. Steve wondered if Bruce had come to the lab since returning to the Compound two weeks previous, it would not surprise him considering how long Bruce has been gone and what he had been through. Though, between the time spent with Thor and Nat, Steve doubted Bruce would come to the lab by himself, let alone to come work.

“Excuse me Captain,” F.R.I.D.A.Y’s voice cut through the silence in the empty hallway. Steve ignored the voice, continuing to lose himself further to his own mind. When was the last time Tony had been in there himself? Would there be a layer of dust settled on each surface? Are there half empty mugs spotting the surfaces. Did Tony have time to clean up before the mess in New York or are there blueprints scattered everywhere and tools on the floor?

“Captain,” F.R.I.D.A.Y continued, “would you like me to unlock the door?”

Steve hadn’t noticed his hand was resting on the doorknob now. He took a deep breath and gathered himself before giving F.R.I.D.A.Y a quiet “yes, please.”

The door buzzed and then a click echoed down the hall. Another deep breath, and he was pushing the door open.

   


Steve looked around the large room, taking in the shadowed lab and the smell of stale air and engine oil. He stepped into the room and let the door close behind him before the lights flickered on, finally exposing the lab and answering the questions Steve had been asking himself about the state of the lab. It was clean, or at least, cleaner than normal. A few tools sat out but only one table was covered in papers. No mugs remained, no stained clothes or spills on the concrete floor. Steve would be lying if he said the neat state of the lab hadn’t disturbed him somewhat. A part of him was hoping he would find proof of Tony down here. A shirt he could throw in the wash, or some mugs he could remove. To clean up after the man like he had done so often when Tony exhausted himself to the point of passing out in the lab. When they were friends; before he’d screwed everything up.

What’s done is done, and there was no one left to apologize to. Not even a body to hold. Thanos had tried to take everything away, and he had succeeded for the most part. But Steve still had the remaining Avengers, had the compound too - even if it was no longer the home he’d loved. At least with Tony and Wanda, and Vision gone…it felt, lesser.

Especially without Tony.

Despite their bickering they were two sides of the same coin, and now he was alone. Steve approached the desk layered with paper and caught a glimpse of shining blue metal underneath. Certainly not an Iron Man piece, blue? Not a colour Tony worked with frequently, perhaps it was a War Machine part Steve wondered, a brief reminder of the paralyzed state that he left the other patriotic hero in. Just another thing to add to his growing list of faults. 

   


He brushed away the paper but stopped when he noticed the red, white, and blue pattern. There was a sudden rush of guilt, more than the reminder of what had happened to Rhodey. It was a shield, a _Captain America shield._ Shining and unscathed. Steve ran his hand across the face of the shield before flipping it over onto his forearm. Steve looked down at himself, picturing the current state of the Captain America suit rather than the sweat pant and t-shirt combo he was currently wearing. The once symbolic suit that now was a grey mass, the patriotism it once shone now drained away. But the shield, the shield was magnificent.

Steve shifted the shield off his forearm in order to bury it under the paper again but a note taped to the inside of the shield caught his eye. He considered ignoring it, an invasion of privacy he believed, before remembering that Tony wasn’t here and probably would not be back…He took the note off and flipped it over. The opposite side read “asshole” in Tony’s scrawl. Steve’s heart clenched and he decided that perhaps Tony’s abandoned lab was not the place to open the note.

He placed the shield back on the table and didn’t bother trying to cover it up again to mask the disturbance.

“Thank you F.R.I.D.A.Y,” was all he said before leaving the lab and returning to his quarters.


	2. Chapter 2: Sunsets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve returns to his room for the evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was having trouble with AO3 when uploading the first chapter and it ended up making duplicates; then when I went to delete one it said that it was unable to be deleted rn, so hopefully later :/
> 
> Anyways: IMPORTANT! Clint is based off of Avengers Assemble + Faction's Clint, and so is Sam! If you haven't seen AA all you rly need to know is that Sam(Falcon) is 17 (and a big fan of the Avengers). When I was originally writing this (without any plan) I had just wrote AA!Sam in there and then realized that it didn't rly work with MCU but whatever I like AA!Sam and the team's dynamic so AA!Sam is there instead of MCU Sam so he's been around since Pre-CA:WS

The setting sun cast an orange haze throughout Steve’s room. An incredible view he was presented with when they moved to the compound from Stark tower in the heart of New York. Not that he didn’t appreciate the sunset from high above the bustling streets, but this was a different kind of sunset to him. It was calming and he never knew if Tony had given him this room because of how often he’d paint the sunset from the helipad at the tower, or just dumb luck that he was now able see it every evening if he wanted.

The orange had him drifting into a dream state when he sat on his plush bed, back to the door so he could face the expansive view. It was warm (or so he imagined it would be from the temperature controlled compound). He thought back to the night Tony had joined him to watch the sunset when he was painting out there one sweltering August night. When Tony had found him he was flabbergasted that the older man was content to be outside rather than in the tower where the AC shielded them from the heat wave that was passing through New York. Steve had laughed, “The heat isn’t so nice, no.”

Then in a smaller voice he explained that “at the end of the day it’s the one thing that I can grantee will still be around.” Tony nodded and didn’t say anything, just glimpsing at the canvas Steve was working on before walking past and leaning against the railing to watch the sunset in quiet harmony.

The next night Tony had gathered the team to come watch the sunset. It was little things like that that made them a family. Tony didn’t have to push too hard to get the others out of the safety of the chilled building, “please, it would make Cap happy” was enough. Even Clint came along, though the scowl held strong on his face.

When Steve stepped out onto the helipad, arms wrapped around his art supplies he was surprised to find the whole team leaning against the railing, gazing out across the city.

“I thought you might appreciate some company tonight, and to share this beauty,” Tony smiled wide as he gestured across to the team and the city below.

Steve hadn’t painted the sunset, as originally planned. He instead painted the team, _his_ team. _His family._

Tony and Bruce had their shoulders pressed together, seemingly in a deep discussion about (god knows what, Steve assumed something about energy and fuel as was their most recent topic of discussion). Natasha sat on the railing, Clint perched next to her, both engaging in a conversation with Thor, a conversation that was by no means hard to hear, Thor had a habit of projecting his voice. And Sam, young Sam seemed content on listening to Thor and the spies discuss the pros and cons of using Mjolnir for flight.

The memory drifts away as he comes back to reality, eyes focusing back on the room a he looks over to the painting above his dresser, the team sitting in front of a New York sunset. His dazed state had distracted him from the sunset that was presented before him, now disappearing completely behind the horizon as shadows began creeping into his room. With a sigh Steve stands to flick on the bedroom light. His fist clenches around the paper, crumpling it a bit, probably more than he wished. Reminding him that Tony had left him a note.

They hadn’t spoken in two years and here he was, with a note written by Tony during those painful years. He should be scared to read whatever Tony had to say, fear that the words on the paper were venomous and seething with anger (or perhaps the hurt tony felt would seep through the ink). Steve sighed and settled himself into the armchair in the corner of the room, wishing only to curl into himself as though it would protect him from the emotions that may come with whatever Tony had to say.

Steve looked down at the wrinkled paper in his hands, he took a steadying breath before unfolding the note and taking in the words written in Tony’s script.


	3. 8:30 AM

Steve woke up feeling sore. He rubbed his neck and looked around. His bedroom light was still on but he could see the lightened blue of an early morning sky. His alarm clock read 6:12AM. With light stretch of his legs Steve stood up from the corner armchair. He couldn’t recall when he’d fallen asleep exactly, but Tony’s message was fresh in his mind. His shirt was sticking to his back and he realized he’d sweat profusely throughout the night, unable to recall his dream from the night he dismissed it and pulled the shirt over his head on his way to the ensuite to shower.

 

* * *

 

 

Steve raised his mug in acknowledgement of Bruce as the other man entered the kitchen. None of them were well rested, but at least each of them looked like they had at least been sleeping. Bless the small things Steve thought. “Cap,” Bruce said in response as he made his way to set the kettle for his morning tea.

“Did you sleep well, Doctor?” Steve asked, hoping to find comfort in a casual conversation after spending the day alone yesterday.

Bruce grimaced slightly, “please, I think – I think I’d like to be Bruce now,” the shorter man said, his tone hinting at defeat. Steve supposed this was understandable given how much Banner had been through, perhaps even more than the rest of them. Self-exile to space with Hulk at the wheel? Steve considered that to be pretty significant.

“Alright then, Bruce,” Steve said as though testing out the name on his tongue, “then I’d like to be Steve if you don’t mind.” Steve gave Bruce a friendly smile, one that was thankfully returned. They sat together at the dining table and fell into a comfortable conversation about weird and wild things they’d come across in the past two years. Both avoiding the catalyst and what had brought them back together. It was a nicer morning than Steve could have hoped for.

Bruce paused the conversation, taking a quick look at his watch.

“Clint will be here in 3…2…1.”

Right on cue, a yawning Clint shuffled into the kitchen, taking no notice of the other 2 avengers sitting at the dining table. Instead he pulled open the freezer and retrieved his box of frozen waffles. Bruce watched Clint casually and Steve looked between the two before falling into a fit of laughter.

“What’s so funny there Cap?” Clint questioned as he dropped the waffles into the toaster.

Ignoring the question, Steve looked to Bruce asking “how did you know that!?”

“I wake up at relatively the same time every day, as do you Cap – Steve. ‘cept neither of us are in here around this time, Clint however surprising, has a strict morning schedule. More than you lately I’ve noticed,” Bruce gives Steve a sad look before turning to look at Clint again, “every morning, 8:30 Clint comes down here before showering or brushing his teeth to make 3 frozen waffles and then proceeds to burn himself on them, every time…without fail.”

As if on cue, Clint yelps and drops one of the waffles on the floor. He flips Bruce the finger, “prick”. There’s no malice behind the chime though, as Clint just grins and bends to retrieve the fallen waffle.

“If you’re not in here this time in the morning how would you know that…” Steve asks.

Bruce looks down into his mug, “I uh, I watch the security footage…” and before Steve or Clint can ask for more detail Bruce finishes, “To see if Tony comes back.”

Steve feels a pang of sadness, “why watch the security footage though, Bruce, if he’s here you’d find out before you watch the footage,” Steve asks quietly.

Bruce looks uncomfortable at the questioning, but he was the one who decided to tell the truth and their relationship is precarious as it is, lying would do no good.

“I don’t imagine he would be totally willing to hang around while, some of you are here.”

Bruce refuses to meet Steve’s eyes, feeling ashamed at his reasoning no matter how justified he believed it to be. The words registered slowly to Steve. He knew exactly who Bruce was talking about. The doctor was worried that Tony would leave if he knew Steve was in the house. And that just about crushed Steve, his stomach sank and he felt as though he might vomit right then and there in the kitchen.

“I’m sorry Cap,” Bruce shook his head and got up to leave his mug in the dishwasher. He gave Clint, who was now sitting on the counter, a smile before moving to leave. He paused and returned to the table, this time placing a firm hand on Steve’s now slumped shoulders, “I really am.” And with that Bruce left the kitchen.

Clint made to say something to break the silence but quickly decided that a quip from him would probably be unwelcome in this situation. Instead he slipped off the counter and took the seat across from Steve where Bruce had been previously. A few moments passed before Clint spoke up, “do you want to go train? Some one-on-one free hand?”

“It’s okay, really Barton. You don’t have to keep me company, I’m sure there’s other things you’d rather be doing,” Steve said finally looking up from the table giving Clint what seemed to be a forced smile. Cap’s eyes gave away his content façade, they showed an overwhelming sadness. Clint knew that he shouldn’t push for more from the older man and left the table and kitchen, leaving Steve alone.

This seemed to be becoming the norm. He wasn’t completely alone the past two years, Nat was there. Sam too. But now that they were all reunited back at the compound most of the team avoided him. He couldn’t blame them exactly, what he did to the team was awful. What he did to Tony, just unforgivable. It was in the past and he supposed that this was a price he’d pay for breaking the heart of the man he loved.

Steve fished the note out of his trouser pocket and held it delicately, afraid to add more crinkles to the page.

 

_“Steve Rogers,_

_You were my dad’s greatest creation. For most families, their children are their greatest creation. I was always a successful genius, but to him it never mattered. Captain America was the greatest man around and he had a hand in that. And then he lost you, the world lost you. I grew up hearing tales of your exploits even though it was years after he’d lost you to those icy depths. You were never far from his mind, a fourth family member. I was taught to admire you and I did. But those stories and wonderfully spun tales missed the most important pieces. They were incomplete stories of this man they called Captain America. I know the truth now though. You’ve always been a great man, even before the Captain was created. Steven Grant Rogers made Captain America the great hero. You’re passionate, but you’re also grounded and know what’s right. And I understand now that that’s why you did what you did. I’m so sorry Cap. We really muddled this up, didn’t we?_

_When we first met I was jealous, here was the man I knew better than anyone growing up. Stories of your accomplishments were greater than anything I could have come up with. My dad loved you but could never do the same for me, his own son. But that’s in the past now because look what I’ve built. Look at all the good we’ve done without him. That’s over now I suppose. Maybe if I’d told you earlier this never would have ended with your shield through my chest, because nothing has pained me more than that. Not even discovering the truth of the car accident. But I can’t tell you now so there’s no point for this anyways,”_

 

The bottom wasn’t signed but there was a cup ring staining the bottom of the page, coffee Steve hoped despite knowing it was likely to be scotch.

He circled the stain with a finger. Trying to wipe it away, erase it. Smudge it at the very least. Clean off the paper of the destructive liquid. A reminder of what Steve had done, what _he’d_ caused.

A tear fell from Steve’s face, joining the stained ring on the page.

Then another.

The fresh wet drops mixed with the signature marking the end of the page. Through tearing eyes, he read the final words:

 

_“I love you, Steven.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a part 2! I haven't started but I guarantee there will be a second part to this series ((I'm thinking....a reunion.... ;) )). I'm in the middle of moving and its a holiday weekend so I've been super busy and wanted this 'final' chapter out sooner but that didn't happen. Hopefully I'll find time to start putting out the second part later this week.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if you liked it, it would mean the world to me and I haven't written in a while but have been inspired.  
> I've already written all of Part 1 so additional chapters for this part will be added regularly don't worry.


End file.
